True sacrifice
by magirl0413
Summary: Sad one shot. Holmes says some harsh and cruel things in a dire situation that has Watson thinking. Is he really worth Holmes' trouble?


**Hey this is my first Sherlock Holmes fic hope you enjoy.**

'_So How should we do this? Would you like me…. To cut him, burn him, drown him…..or perhaps you would have a better idea,'_ a voice said through the fog.

Watson groaned and rolled over onto his side and looked out the bars of the cell.

Holmes sat in a chair hands obviously tied behind his back a tall man standing next to him.

"H…..Holmes?" he said sluggishly through the drug filled haze.

"Watson." Holmes said calmly.

"Ah so I see our dear pet is awake," The tall man said through the bars.

"What…..?" But that was all Watson managed to get out through the fog.

"Do be quite Watson," Holmes said harshly.

Watson sank into a confused silence.

"As I was saying would you prefer me to cut, burn or drown him or… Ohhh how about electrocution!" The man said in a cruelly hysterical way.

"Actually I don't care what you do to Watson. To be perfectly honest Watson has always been more of a liability than anything else. Constantly getting my way and, what's more always holding my genius back," Holmes said in a calm, level voice.

These words hit Watson like a thousand bullets. His breath caught in his throat and his heart stopped. He sat up fast and instantly regretted it. His head swam and he practically fell against the back of the wall. He felt the entire world around come crashing down on him in despair and betrayal. He gazed at Holmes but the man refused to look at the complete betrayal in his friends eyes. Watson fell into himself and allowed his shoulders and head to drop.

Holmes felt his heart clench at the sight of his dearest friend in such a state but he steeled himself and looked straight at the tall man and opened his mouth to say something just as the door banged open and Lestrade walked in gun poised.

"Hands in the air and back away slowly," The man yelled.

The tall man grudgingly agreed and did as he was told.

Lestrade ran forward and undid Holmes' bindings and took the keys and opened the cell.

Holmes ran in and attempted to help his friend stand only to be shrugged off. Watson stumbled and Holmes put out a helping hand but Watson pushed him away and walked out.

Lestrade looked to him for answers but only received a glare that said "Do. not. ask."

LINE BREAK!

Watson sat in his chair reading the paper and completely aware of Holmes' eyes on him.

He shifted stiffly and cleared his throat, determined not to look up.

"You…..Understand why it was necessary for me to say what I did?" Holmes asked cautiously.

"Mmmmm," Watson grunted.

"I….see…..So would like to….. perhaps uhhh…. Go to the opera with me? (not what you think)" he said feeling the discomfort and tension in the air.

"You know Holmes I am feeling a bit tired I think I shall got to bed," Watson said and without another word he got up and walked to his room.

'_Apparently my words affected him more than I first predicted,'_ Holmes thought, watching him walk out of the room and heard him thump up the stairs.

He lit his pipe and sat back in his chair, his chin resting on his chest. It had been two days since their kidnapping and rescue. Watson had simply refused to look at him or even speak to him really and it was starting to worry Holmes. Watson had basically secluded himself to his room only to emerge for meals and occasionally sit with him.

"Perhaps I should do something," Holmes muttered. He got up and walked up the stairs to Watson's room and knocked on the door. There was no answer, "Come, come, Watson I do believe this is getting ridiculous," he said and walked into the room.

The first thing he noticed was Watson lying peacefully on his back in his bed. The second thing he noticed made his heart stop and explode in his ears. Watson was not breathing.

"WATSON!" He ran over and picked his dear friend off the couch and shook him harshly, "Watson! Come on old boy in need you to open your eyes," He clumsily felt for a pulse but found none. His eyes widened incredibly and his blood was suddenly pumping broken glass. His eyes fell on a bottle next to the man's bed stand. He reached over and picked it up, Cyanide. "Dear GOD what have you done, Watson," He screamed. Watson's limbs were cold and stiff. "Watson….. Why," he said and he felt broken tears falling uncheck down his cheeks.

He looked over with hatred at the table and saw the bottle. In despare he grabbed it and slammed it against the wall, taking pleasure in seeing it burst into a million pieces. He looked back at the night stand and saw a note or more appropriately a letter addressed to him.

Hurriedly he grabbed the letter and opened it.

_My Dear Holmes,_

_ If you have found this letter than I am no longer with the living._ _It pains me to say it but I feel that what you said in the cell may have had some truth in it. I am indeed holding you back and I am causing you harm by constantly getting myself hurt or kidnapped and I must apologize. You have been my closes and dearest friend throughout these years and I am forever grateful. My life with you has been an adventure and I am truly sorry to have cut it short. You have always said I was a romantic and I suppose you will be right to the very end. _

_ Thank you my dear Holmes,_

_And goodby,_

_John H. Watson_

Holmes crushed the sheet in his hand and more tears fell.

"This…. This is all my fault! How could I have not seen this!? My stupid logic and deduction! How?! How could I not have seen this?! Because of my stupid selfish words…. My Boswell, My only dearest friend."

**So sad…. I really had no idea where this was going but I am happy with the outcome. Very sad. **


End file.
